My throat is sore. My glands are incredibly swollen. My nose is running like a faucet.
Ordinarily I'd have a double rehearsal tomorrow, plus a few more hours on Saturday, but I'd decided incipient laryngitis means I get to email my choir director and beg off. Because hell hath no fury like a group of professional singers who have been infected with laryngitis.
Tomorrow night, I'm going to the opera to see La Boheme--but it's OK because Mimi dies at the end, anyway.
Diet and Fitness update: I'm kind of tired of being on a diet, but I don't really have much of an appetite because I can't smell or taste anything. So that's good. I guess.
And if you think this entry is lackluster, stay away from today's Mamarazzi post.